LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

S^p. A-.... ®oiii|ri3|l fo 

Slielf...ytvlSS 

UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. 



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Sheltered Waifs 



EDSON B. RUSSELL 



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""DEC 4 mf] 



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MIXXKAHM.IS. MINNESOTA 

THE BUCKEYE PUBLISHING COMPANY 

IS'tO 



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g,<JO 



Copyright. KS'Jd. 

By EDSON B. RUSSELL, 

All Rights Reserved. 



fe^©r)ier)fs. 



3uR Gift, 
[ndian Summer. 
Iaii., Winter. 
March. 

FUXE. 
1(IFE. 

Memoria. 

30PE. 

50NG OF THE LARK. 

Emerson. 

Dead Old Year. 

The West. 

\ July Afternoon. 

EaSTER. 

[n September. 
Let Them Wait. 



NicaiT. 

Beyond. 

To a Gull's Wing. 

Winter at Gettysburg. 

Our Aged Friends. 

Cloud Cities. 

Visitors. 

Shells. 

The North Wind. 

Old Battle Flag. 

Autumn Text. 

The Pemigewasset. 

A Song. 

The Year is New. 

Toiler up the Rugged Way 

Minnesota. 



Illustrations by the author. 



PHBhum. 



0UP (Si[f 




CCEPT our gift of homespun lines, 
Not floral buds, from summer's loom. 
Not clusters rich from generous vines 
Nor harvest sheaves can we bestow, 
For nature doth not grant it so. 



The garniture of wealth and ease, 
Propitious ways which lead to power, 
The things of wit that briefly please 
(More simple way is ours to live), 
Possessing not, we cannot give. 



Ours then, to offer soul-felt lays, 
Good-will, and trust to those who doubt. 
To prophesy of better days 
In simple measure, and descry 
A fruitful autumn in your sky. 



Ir)di0:r) C)urr)iY)ep. 



^t ET poets sing 

" Of budding spring. 




^ And "'ode" the summer roses 
I tune my lays 
To Autumn days, 
As fair October closes. 

Though fashions scorn 
The golden corn 

That yonder valleys cover. 
Of honest fields 
Which labor yields, 

I am an ardent lover. 

When sleety rains 
Have swept the plains, 

And cleared the skies of trouble, 
I love to trace 
The rustic grace 

Of browning woods and stubble. 



The lazy nod 
Of goklenrod, 

As pales its yellow lustre, 
The serpentine 
Suspended vine, 

With many a scarlet cluster. 

The broken gleams 
Of pasture streams 

Through leafless thorn and thistle, 
The echo bounds 
Of varied sounds. 

The quail with shrilly whistle. 

The call of crow. 
And distant low 

Of heather ranging cattle, 
The bugle strains 
Of feathered trains, 

That move in lines of battle. 

4 

The dizzy whirr, 
And throbbing stir 

Of strutting partridge-drummer. 
Such sights and sounds, 
In constant rounds. 

Are praising Indian Summer. 



p 



aij 



w ir)f ei? ! 




Ife AIL. Winterl with thy sohnnii train 
Of ice-encumbered days. 
^Thou hast most surely come again 
Through thine accustomed way; 
From polar wastes, the chilling wind 
Hath brought us snow and sleet. 
And through the woods (November thinned) 
I hear thy hastening feet. 

Thy hosts arc gathering on the hills, 

By ghostly banners led: 
Each grim aeolian chord that shrills 

Above the summer dead, 
Proclaims thy rule is over all, 

Like one vast shadowing wing ! 
Until fair April's tender call 

Shall wake us into spring. 



^apc^. 



% HEAR the swelling music 

Of wind-harps rudely strung. 
Intrusive voices joining 
~~ In songs so often sung. 

Tlie winter's dying echoes 

And April's herald strains ; 
The Norther's fitful wailing, 
With pattering of rains. 
Now is a chord of sadness, 

Now is a sweep of power, 

March reigns, and suits her music 

To changes, every hour. 



J 



uDe. 



ARM days make the heart grow 

And June fills the sympathies full. 
^^^F The head, from cold white snow 

Draws lightning, and the power to rule 
Hut now is June, and sweet it is to me, 
To feel within its wondrous melody. 

Huds swell and burst in bloom. 

Trees stretch their fingers to the sun, 

Softly the aerial loom 

Weaves on, and spiral threads are run: 

Full are the cups, while o'er and o'er the bee 

His drowsy song sends forth in revelry. 

As from a viewless strand 

A benediction fills the air. 
Uprising through the land. 

List thee to Earth's mighty choir! 
Ky hands untouched, a million harps resound. 
And life springs up where only death was found. 

() Juuel could we abide 

Forever in thy realm of love: 
No need were ours to hide, 

The heart's complaint, or stronger prove. 
To meet King Winter with his frosted crown: 
For the flowers look up, and the sun looks down. 



10 



hif^. 



f^^ IvNOW not really what thou art. 
But know O life ! we cannot part; 
Death's curtain does not fall between 
My sight and that on which I lean. 
By law united, we shall be 
United thus eternally! 

Nor beat of heart, nor thought, nor breath, 
Nor thou, dear life, art lost in death. 
The body, which doth waste and die! 
It is not thou, it is not I: 
I am the centre, thou the shield, 
We are divinely linked and sealed. 
Where thou wouldst go, I sure am there, 
And whether " night or morning, "' share 
With thee sorrow and tears, or birth 
Into the glories not of Earth. 



11 



R9< 



crn©i?i<2c. 



'.ir)0 



TJNKS TO A FIJIEXD. ArfOMPAXIED BY A B0I(,)TI:T. 
Be this the mission of the flowers. 

f^^0^==O lift thy memory's chamber latch 
^^§B With perfume, drawn from heavens far skie: 
>|_^^To bring thee odors of sweet days, 

"^^^ Which youth has tinged with fadeless dyes. 

To stir the dream fire in thy heart 
Till it doth live, in truest art. 

Remembering the orilays 

That rose from meadows fresh and fair. 
The iiirds that swing on willow boughs, 

llalf-drunk with May's delicious air; 
The hum of burly bumble-bee 
From sodded field and orchard tree. 

The lowing herds, the bleating flocks. 

And sudden dash of fleeting showers, 
The tranquil sky at even-tide, 

And languid pace of mid-day hours. 
The broad eaved barn, where rose the din. 
Of swallows when the hav came in. 



12 



Tlic praric-lily, scarlet plunuHl, 

And osier, tufted o'er with wliite. 

The undulations (like the sea) 

Of fields that stretch beyond the sight. 

The cloud mirage, uplifted dim 

Against the sky's inverted rim. 

The far off crimson of the west 

Which filled thy soul with fairest dream 
The moon's pale light that melted through 

The twilight shades, with steady beam 
And distant call of whip-poor-will. 
When summer nights were cool and still. 

Remembering these early scenes, 

Thy soul shall drink the draughts of peace: 
And thought shall rise on stronger wing, 

While burdening cares and doubt will cease, 
Remembering, remembering 
Will keep thy heart in childhood's spring. 



-^^- 




I hear the swelling music 
Of wind-harps rudely strung. 



13 



P 



ope. 




"^im OPE, like the day, hath wing? 
^ Soon as its whisperings 

Have touched our hearts. 
Unbid it glides away, 
E'en as the flight of day 
When light departs. 

As day unhid returns, 
And morning gently burns 

Her incense sweet. 
So. hope will come again. 
And be as dear as when 

It vanished fleet. 



14 



!M3i 




C>or)a oT frje U(2[r^. 



VER the meadow-lands flashing with dow. 

lAU the wild heather and woody dells through. 

Floating upon the soft zephyrs of May. 
^^ Rising in triumph to meet the new day : 
Up to the sunlight and out of the dark. 
Hark 1 hark ! it's the song of the lark. 

Rolling in billows of silvery notes 

O'er the fresh fields, where the drowsy mist floats. 

Touching the shores of our indolent sense 

With new impulse of life, from a fair providence! 

Swift as an arrow sent sure to its mark, 

Hark! hark! it's the song of the lark. 

Pntting the chords of the spirit in tune 
With nature's great heart, and unceasing rune. 
Opening the gates to the ideal land, 
Placing our feet on its infinite strand. 
Waking, renewing the hope that was stark. 
Hark! hark! it's the song of the lark. 

Blessed be the matin of grey meadow-bird 
From valleys of bloom; wherever it's heard 
'Twill cast a bright spell on drearysome way 
As beams of the sun o'er dark waters play. 
Up from the low-lands to heavens blue arc. 
Hark! hark! it's the song of the lark. 



15 



irricFSor), 



,=,^fe^ WELLER upon the heights far reaching and subliinc 
'" ;0n whose uncovered peaks no clouds of passing time 




'Shut down, nor shadowed spell weaves in its darker thread 
'Mong golden warp and woof, where e'er thy thought hath 
Thy hope doth anchor men to things most truly just! [led. 

Breaking their slavish chains, freeing from lethel rust, 
So dost thou lead the train of struggling thoughts of mine 
Upward, slowly upward to grander thought of thine. 



Wecid (sJid Vear. 



<^^^ LD year is dead, 
His vassals fled. 

Low are the echoes of his dirge 
From wood, and hill, and ocean-surge 

Old year is dead. 

No more his tread 

The blushing flowers of Jiiik^ will stir; 

Oblivion holds his calendar. 




16 



^]^e Wesf. 




HE west, tlie west, the broad fair west, 
Where the millions' feet are turning, 
Where the new-made hearths of pioneer; 
~' Like beacons bright are burning. 

Where boundless plains are swept by winds 

Unstained by slavish story. 

And mountain peaks still wear in peace, 

Their matchless robes of glory. 

The west, the west, the mighty west. 
That fears no base oppression; 
Throws open its asylum gates 
To all the world's procession. 
There's freedom in its bracing air. 
The leaping cascade speaks it; 
An unchained spirit stirs the heart 
And brain of him who seeks it. 

The west, the west, the youthful west. 

With giant arms unfolding, 

In regal strength, and purpose grand. 

The nation's life is moulding. 

To-morrow's worth, and wealtli and power, 

Yes, all the future ages. 

With earnest thought, will gladly |)ay 

Their tributes to its sages. 



17 




e/i July (s/d 1 10^1)0 or). 



HE cricket ^ives his tireless song 
From out the creviced ledges, 
From many a bunch of sunburned grass, 
And from the dusty hedges. 



The slant sunshafts through gathering clouds 
On waving corn are glancing, 
And sparkle on the river's breast, 
Where tides are slow advancing. 



The peace that reigns this afternoon, 
Has filled the scene completely, 
And nature's voice through everything. 
Breathes music, soft and sweetly. 



18 



Becsf 




(ZLSLdlP, 



\% E arose," as we in truth shall rise, 
'^ Above the images of sense, 
PAbove the death-clods, sickness, sighs, 

Into the living soul's surprise, 

Unto the spirit, go we hence. 



He burst the bonds of deatii," and we 
As sure, the bonds of fear shall break. 
Into "the substance" full and free. 
Into the life and love, will be 
Our birth, when truth within shall wake. 



He triumphed o'er the wasting grav^ 
Immortal things cannot decay, 
And not for time alone. He gave 
The mighty lessons that shall pave 
And light forever, God's sure way. 





19 



ir) C)epferT)bep. 

^^WEET this careless, listless lying- 
^ 'Neath the rich September sky; 
While the summer (surely dying) 
Drops its fruits, and hastens by. 



Sweet the air, from asters stealing, 
And from banks of goldenrod ; 
Half revealing, half concealing 
Woodland paths, by lovers trod. 



Bei f l)eiT) Waif ! 

UTSIDE the gates of beauty, let them wait, and wane 
and die : 

All jealousies and passions. 
Encumbent is the duty that may hail from out the sky 

Which love imperial fashions. 



20 



"^W 



/iS^f^k. IS night, becalmed like sleep of deatli, 

t^'^ll Deep Strangely mute, nor sigh, nor breath 
^_pf # Doth stir the mystery profound ; 

Whose veil of shadow folds around 

All but the stars, 
Alike its benedictions fall 
O'er vale and hill, and traflic hall. 
Soothing all ,iars. 

Dost love the day, and deem its power 
More worthy than the vesper hour? 
Yield, man 1 and lay thy work aside. 
Peace will be thine, while shadows hide 

Earth's offerings. 
Haste not, O, soft-robed night, but stay I 
O'er shadowing the pomp of day 

With thy broad wings. 



J^cy0r)d . 



^^j^^At- EYOND the lines of mortal sense. 
The flowing tides of providence 




>^,^ Waf t onward every good desire 

To sweet fulfillment, through the fire 
Of loss appear new promises, 
And from decay new things arise. 




Wing of the northern gull 
From which I pluck this quill! 




21 



Wo d ©ull's WiT)^. 

ING of the Northern gull, 
From which T pluck this quill ; 
i" When wind and waters lull, 
Thy pulse is almost still, 
But when the storm-King, grand, 
Sweeps over sea and land, 
Thy flight, in circles wide 
Is fearless "gainst the tide. 

All day, preceding storm. 
The sailor's eye doth mark 
Thy white and swinging form. 
Above his rolling barque. 
Far from the stable shore, 
Strong pinion ; thou dost soar, 
Unmindful how the deep 
Dark waters roll and leap. 

Through thee, O. pinion white; 
My heart doth stronger beat, 
And brighter grows the light 
My soul would rise to meet, 
Through thee, 1 feel the power, 
That in the tempest-hour 
Can nerve the weakest wing 
Or soul, for con«iuering. 



IP 



22 



AiNI crossing the line to the cold white camp, 
In physical armor, no picket confronts me, 
p I see not the gleaming of fires or lamp : 

Though a stillness like night hangs over and haunt 

The cannon is silent, no more in these hills 
Shall war's desolation break forth in wild clashes, 
The form of a hero, each shallow trench fills ; 
But his spirit is free from the mildewed ashes. 

Drift over them gently, and over them deep 
Ye snows of December, while nature reposes. 
They heed not our winter (O, why do we weep); 
They care not that summer has gone witli its roses. 

Drift tenderly over the mounds on this hill. 
Fill up the dark furrows, and fallen leaves cover, 
Raise up your white barracks, protecting them still, 
(The patriots) brother, and husband, and lover. 

They vanished like dew "neath a desert's hot blast, 

(I need not recite here the desolate story) 

So, softly around them, a benison cast. 

Each sodden tent mantle with emblems of glory. 



23 




fe)uF riGrcd Kpier)ds. 



( Dedicated to my poet friend James G. Clark.) 

OWN the westward slope of the land of years, 
|i They are going, they are all going, 

And trust has taken the place of their fears. 
For they look on the fields of their sowing. 

The fields where they toiled when their souls were strong, 

And they strove for the heart's ideal, 
When the pride of their strength was in each song 

That shall wake on the strand of the real. 

A mellower light beams over this slope, 
Than shone through the gate of their morning 

On the hills of youth, the hills of their hope, 
iVnd for them is a fairer day dawning. 

rhe frost of the years, like silvery spray 

Has crowned them, and they are going, 
They are slowly, silently slipping away 

On the tides, which never cease flowing. 

They step (one by one) from the earthly track 

And across the stream, but not forever, 
For the tide which takes them, brings them back, 

And the bond of love, death can not sever. 



24 



v^loiid tifi 



GS. 




N the misty steeps of the tlistaiit cloud, 

A city rises fair, 

Whose spires, cloines and minarets, 

Are fashioned from the air, 

And softly from the atrial courts. 

Sweet strains of music rise, 

O, who can tell the wond'rous charm 

Of those wild melodies? 



\) 



to; 



ISIlOFS 




h HEY come ! they come 1 * 
The shadowing forms, 
Across the wastes of night, 
"~ And the soul awakes. 
And glows and warms, 
Before those phantoms white. 

They come 1 they come 1 
On Eeriel wings, 
To shores of sense and time, 
And the doubtful heart 
Takes hope, and sings 
Its song of truth sublime. 



26 



g.l)cll 



S. 



^ GATHERED them where the grey mew cull 
% On the shore of the sire*!! sea, 
W Where the damp mist and snnshine falls, 
Where the snrf rims out from the lea. 



I gathered them when the storm had passed. 
With its mntterings deep and grim, 
When the light broke forth o'er the waters vast. 
And the crags were reflected dim. 

In the sounding throat of ovened rocks, 
After the tide had slipt away. 
When the shore-surf with its d-eafening shocks 
Had left the nooks of circling bay 

I gathered them, on the steaming sand ; 
Their rainbow hues were upward cast, 
A glowing line on the bleaching strand 
After the furv of the blast. 



And so, I bring them with wash of waveh 
From the shore of the siren sea, 
With the hollow echoes of the caves. 
And the cry of gulls o"er the lea. 



26 




^ EARING monrs perfume from the fields of clover 



"^ To assuage the/evered pulse of man 



Bringing notes from distant wailing plover ; 

And from meadow blackbirds' noisy clan. 

Swinging the boughs where nests are not deserted. 
Gently, and in rhythmic rise aud fall : 
Measured with silvery voice concerted 
(Answer to the golden-robin's call). 

Lifting the hairbells on their stalks so slender. 
Swaying hedges twixt the fields of corn. 
Breath of clouds and Summer's northern splendor; 
In what land mysterious wert thou born? 

Didst come from Huron, or Superior's vastness? 
From wave-gnawed cavern or island bank? 
Was't thou born in some primeval fastness ; 
Where tameracks stand, solemn, close and rank? 

Thou bringest the odor of bright green sedges 
And voices of brooding brant and crane: 
That camp upon the wild, lonely edges 
Of marsh wastes, and wafry portage chain. 

And so, methinks that southward thou hast traveled, 
Through the grey still hours of the night. 
And thus to many a leaf unraveled. 
The deep secrets of thy birth and flight. 



27 



Qld jSaltlc Rkg. 



j^^i^LAG of our nation ; thou hast kept 
^^ Liberty's pledge on sea and land, 
^ Those who, in chains of slavery wept, 
Stretched to thee the sable hand. 



And thou didst heed them, thou didst save. 
For Columbia's hosts so brave 
Fought beneath thy shadowing fold : 
E'er we thought to call thee old. 



Flag of our fathers, may it be 
Sign of broadest liberty, 
Cherished alike by all who tell 
Stories of its magic spell. 



28 



^ 



HE fall-tide overlaps the hill, 
And mellow days distill their wine, 



"^pjFields in the valley, ripe and still, 
^^? Through leagues of haze but dimly shine, 
October hath a pensive mood ; 
Her subtle frost's lethean touch 
A spell doth cast upon the wood, 
That fills its isles with solitude. 

Mark now, the slow decreasing beat 
Of nature's pulse through every scene. 
O'er-strewn with leaves in close retreat. 
The brook frets onward 'neath the sheen 
Of rose-warm skies, the stir of wings 
Amid the half -bare branches, raise 
Belated birds from hidden springs 
And tell of southward journeyings. 

O, Sabbath spell, of all the year ! 
Sweet fall the echoes through thy breath. 
Though woods and fields are growing sear, 
Such, surely, are not signs of death. 
Transmuted to the realm of thought. 
Thy palsied scenes burst into bloom : 
And stretch (with fairest prospects fraught) 
Where sleety storms and frosts come not. 

The journeyings to spring are ours, 
From waning warmth of sun to May — 
From nakedness to regal bowers 
Each soul doth wing its destined way. 
Not aimless do our seasons ply 
Their endless changes, drear and fair : 
But spur the better thought to try 
More splendid voyages bye and bye. 









I gathered them where the grey mew calls, 
On the shore of the siren sea." 



29 



Tbepc 



eiT)iq e Wdssel . 



,^^^/|^ OLLOVVED 'mong the northern mountain; 
""IE Only lit by mid-day beam. 
^Filled with rush and rune of fountains, 

Is the cradle of the stream, 
Where the "old man" on his shoulders 
Lifts the riven granite peak, 
'Till the clouds rest on the boulders 
Which the strong-winged eagles seek. 

Where Eternal walls imprison. 

Woods primeval, dark with pines, 

Holding back (where they liave risen) 

Mossy titans to their lines. 

Where the white birch, like a spectre 

Leaning o"er the tiny lake. 

Draws from thence the mountain nectar, 

That doth keep its heart awake. 

Where the winter-spirit lingers 
In rude caverns, deep and still, 
Wliile the summer's busy lingers 
Clothe with green the vale and hill. 
Under grim and awful ledges 
(Mighty pillars of the earth), 
From Lake Profile's liquid edges, 
There the river hath its birth. 



30 



Downward, downward to tlio ocean, 
Now its journey is begun, 
Ever with a tuneful motion. 
Clear and swift the waters run. 
Be it day, or darkness over, 
Burning noon, or twiliglit gray, 
Tt doth onward (as a rover) 
Keep its solitary way. 



White witli foam and dark with shadows. 
Droning past the hermit's door. 
Through the stretch of Campton meadows 
To the falls of Livermore 
vS weeps the river, shallow, winding, 
Leaping then, to lower lands 
And a broader channel finding, 
Loiters on the Plymouth sands. 



Slowly now, yet scarce delaying. 
Stirring darkly, broad and deep. 
Like a restless giant; swaying 
'Gainst the prisoning bank and steep, 
Met by creeks with mellow voices. 
It doth keep a rugged track 
'Till its gathered host rejoices 
In the stately Merrimack. 



31 



Thus, the picture of thy beauties 
(River of New England's pride,) 
Mingled with life's sober duties, 
Flows before me like a tide, 
And in dreams I see tlioe sweeping 
Downward, downward to thy rest, 
Nature's Earthly phases keeping, 
And with Heavenly moods impressed. 



32 



(^ So 



va 



SONG for bleak November, 
^^l^kr - ^^0*^*3 bounding breezes chill, 
^ ^';^Sigh through the naked forests, 
And sweep the browning hill. 

A song for hoary thistles 

And leaf-banks, sear and grim; 

For unmasked brooks and heathlands 
And pools wliere wild ducks skim. 

Deserted nests still clinging 

In friendly sUinted thorn. 
And creaking reeds akimbo 

'Mong withered stalks of corn. 



JNTake melancholy music, 
Like ghosts of Adrian's hall, 

And bow their doubtful welcome 
To Winter's gathering pall. 



33 




( Inscribed to my wife.) 
BAREST : the year is new, 
And the roses silent sleep, 
But the hearts that are most true 
All their vows of love will keep, 
Though snows are deep, 
Still, love will keep. 
Though the roses fade and wither, 
Love survives the stormy weather, 
And its lires still keep burning, 
And the soul renews its yearning 
Howsoe'er the seasons run. 

Dearest : the year is new 
And its harvests are to grow, 
We are drinking of life's rue, 
Barren fields, in pain we sow, 

Vet, green will grow 

The fields we sow. 
Not in vain this painful sowing, 
For, the seed in silence growing, 
Bursts anon its gloomy prison, 
And— as other forms have risen — 
Thus, puts forth the flower and fruit. 

Dearest : the year is new, 
But its music now so slow, 
Soon will shake the honey-dew 
From the summer's loaded bough, 

From world of gloom 

To world of bloom. 
Thus, the miracle of living 
Comes by what the soul is giving, 
Love, its winter-vigils keeping 
Prophesies a joyful reaping, 
And fulfills its holy trust. 




%ls% 



^w 



X 




T 



Thou bringest the odor of bright green sedges, 
And voices of brooding brant and crane. 



35 



^ Oiler Cip 1:9c l\U(2fqed way 



^^ OILER up the rugged way : 

^^ttsiow, and fainting, day by day 

^^^Hope will rise again and sing — 

For thy faithful battling. 



Though severe the battle fought, 
Joy will come, O, doubt it not, 
Upward: upward cast thine eye. 
To the living verity. 



Sweet peace cometh after storm. 
After night, the blush of morn, 
After tears, the heart shall rest 
Pillowed on the Eternal breast. 



36 



W)\ 



r)r)eso] 



a. 




^OURCE of rivers ; land of lakes : 
^11^ I thy son, give greeting: here, 
^"^-In my breast there feebly wakes 

Praise of thee, yet half in fear, 
For a greater bard hath sung 
Of thy richly tinted skies. 
Of the generous vestures, flung 
Where thy broad dominion lies, 
Mother-land, I long have known 
Thy greater nature and its strife; 
'Mong thy wildest scenes, have grown 
The affections of my life. 

Gently soothed by summer airs 
Strangely stirred by winter's blast ; 
Thought of mine most willing, bears 
What upon me thou dost cast. 
Move me then to speak thy name 
With a pride that is but just, 
I would give a wider fame 
Unto thee, a deeper trust. 



37 

Resting (full of youthful grace) 
By "Superior's" crystal wave, 
Sweet reflections of thy face 
In the cooling waters lave, 
And thy mantle spreiding far 
South and West with regal sweep, 
Spangled o'er with many a star, 
Fringed with many a rugged steep; 
Makes a peerless home of health 
For a mighty family- 
Holds a boundless store of wealth 
For the millions yet to be. 

Laud of tempests, wild and swift 
And of days serenely sweet. 
From whose bosom broad, doth lift 
Endless fields of waving wheat: 
I would not forego the charms 
Of thy changeful ministerings. 
Nor exchange for "tropic palms" 
Rudest life that from thee springs. 

Give me labor without ease 

And a home upon thy soil, 

Rather than the ''lotus-breeze" 

That benumbs the mental coil. 

Rather than the luxuries 

Of eternal fruit and flower, 

I would choose thy clime, which gives 

Freedom with its arm of power. 



